


Insomnia

by Onus_Probandi



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Ahah I haven’t written in a while I’m so sorry, Anyways Dimitri has insomnia, Claude out here being the true MVP, Dimiclaude rights, Hey look it’s not smut, I shall regain my strength and write the smut, M/M, Post-Timeskip, Slight spoilers, Theyre married UwU, and Abandonment Issues, but ONE DAY, but today is not this day, this might be a bit OOC I haven’t watched much or played this game
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-18
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-09-06 12:50:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20291746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Onus_Probandi/pseuds/Onus_Probandi
Summary: “You won’t. I’m planning on staying with you till the end, Mitya,” Oh, how Dimitri loves it when Claude calls him that, affectionate and warm. It makes him feel truly loved. “Can’t get rid of me that easy.”





	Insomnia

He’s buried in his books again, pouring over the tomes with a tired gaze as twilight turns to deep black night, devoid of stars and pristine moonlight, candles melted to puddles of shivering wax. The blonde scribbles nonsense onto the parchment, neat cursive devolving into childish drawl as he moved down. He would hardly be able to decipher what he wrote when the time came to put his plans in action, but that didn’t matter now. 

All that mattered was that he do  _ something. _ The harsh northern winter pounded relentlessly against the windows, howling wind seeping through the cracks, under his skin, and into his bones, but not nearly enough to distract him from his inner monologues and ghostly apparitions. Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd von Riegen grinds his palms against his eyes, reaching over for the inkwell and coming face to face with the distorted grin of his husband.

He jolts back in his chair, ink dripping onto the parchment. He curses under his breath while Claude von Riegen Blaiddyd snickers at his quickly reddening face and ears.

“Yanno, when they said ‘marry a king, it’ll be great for the stability of the nation,’ I don’t know what I expected.” Claude drones on melodramatically, complete with flourishes of his hands. “Maybe the lavish lifestyle of a consort, or at the very least, sharing the bed with my husband when I come back from the front lines,” at this he aims his eyes at Dimitri, who darts his away in return. 

“...I’m sorry, I’ve been...busy.”

Claude quirks his lips downwards, displeased more than a touch with the answer, but flashes of negativity hardly last long on the archer’s face. Claude always glows, radiates a brilliant energy and warmth that echoes his presence thousands of times over. 

But that warmth rarely reaches his eyes, verdant eyes ever so steely and calculating, a cat poised at the top of the world as it lazily sought out its mouse. 

Dimitri has only seen them truly set ablaze when they were alone, curled closely together between the sheets. Yet another luxury they can rarely afford in the midst of a continental war, but greatly enjoyed.

Claude tuts teasingly, “don’t give me that,” and the candlelight catches in patches on his face, flickers in and out of existence. He’s practically buried in one of Dimitri’s furs, body trembling in the deep cold, but his voice is steady and a touch stern. “You haven’t slept in days, probably even longer. I could find out if I really wanted to feel guilty.”

Suddenly, the weeks sustaining himself on fumes hits Dimitri square in the chest, his body crumpling in his chair, as much a lion could make themselves a mouse. He looks...less big? It’s difficult to use the word “small” to describe a man of Dimitri’s stature. He simply looks exhausted, bolting to the brink of sanity and still running. His eyes hold a sadness he can never quite shake, ghosts dancing just underneath the surface.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters softly, though Claude isn’t sure who is the target of his apologies. 

“No apologies needed, however, maybe you can take my advice for once.” He swings the fur over Dimitri’s shoulders, pulling him into a half embrace, resting his cheek atop the mess Dimitri called hair. His fingers gently stroke his face, partially to give himself something to do, and partially to soothe Dimitri into a lull. “Go to sleep, my idiot boar king,”

The blonde leans into his touch, sighing softly. “...I worry...about how this will end. I doubt this war will simply end in a stalemate. I doubt we will all live through it. Even if everything goes right, what happens to Fodlan? Things have been set in motion that can’t be repaired.” His eyes flutter shut. “Claude, I’ve lost so many people I love and care for. The idea of losing you too…”

“You won’t. I’m planning on staying with you till the end,  _ Mitya _ ,” Oh, how Dimitri loves it when Claude calls him that, affectionate and warm. It makes him feel truly loved. “Can’t get rid of me that easy.”

Dimitri opens his eyes, vast, deep and utterly tortured. 

“I don’t know what I would do.” His hand comes up to caress Claude’s cheek, bringing his head down until their eyes meet. “So, please.”

“ _ Mitya _ . You’re not the only one with something at stake. The Alliance may be falling apart but I’ve got to hold it together. Plus, distance makes the heart grow fonder, right?” It’s a joke, of course, but Claude seems utterly serious. “We never asked for this, but it’s the hand we’ve been dealt. I’m not going to sit on my cards. You shouldn’t either.”

He climbs into Dimitri’s lap, swinging the cape about them both, pressing his ear to his heart. “I won’t leave you alone, Dimitri. I swear to you.”

Dimitri holds him tight, breathes in the warm scent that is so genuinely Claude, and shuts his eyes, falling into an oddly comfortable lull that lures him into deep slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> Come yell at me on twitter!! @Momancity


End file.
